


the day we fall in love

by mthslh



Category: The Monkees (Band), The Monkees (TV)
Genre: Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:14:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23337463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mthslh/pseuds/mthslh
Summary: Mike’s different than anyone else Peter knows— Peter just has to figure out what that means for them.
Relationships: Mike Nesmith/Peter Tork
Kudos: 31





	the day we fall in love

**Author's Note:**

> this sorta, uh, appeared in my brain and i couldn’t stop until it was written. unfortunately i only had an hour to write it, so i edited it just enough for it to be coherent-ish : ) may look back on it later.

Peter wasn’t quite as stupid as everyone thought.

Yeah, he was a nervous daydreamer, his head in the clouds. He tended to misinterpret social cues, but he knew what was going on most of the time. Everyone always assumed he didn’t understand anything, and that was okay with him— it made life easier. He was simply a nervous, shy person, and it didn’t particularly matter to him _why_ people ignored him, just that they did. If people think you’re dumb as a rock, they laugh at you less when you mess something up.

Micky and Davy were much better than most people. They included him in conversation, and they could tell when he was joking and when he wasn’t. They were nice boys, lovely housemates, and they cared about him, and they appreciated him.

Mike, though, was totally different.

With Mike, he didn’t have to try. He wasn’t on his toes shutting himself up or thinking all he said through— he just said what he felt like saying. Mike understood his meaning when his brain felt scrambled, and sat quietly until Peter worked it out. And despite Micky and Davy’s kindness, Mike was the only one Peter felt he could express his emotions around and not be embarrassed.

There was one night in particular that stood out to Peter. After accidentally divulging too much information to a Ukrainian man he’d met after a gig (he’d seemed like a quite pleasant guy!) Davy and Micky had been kidnapped once more. They’d fixed it all, as they usually did, after calling in some favors with a herpetologist, an exotic frog, and a translator, but Peter felt just awful that it was all his fault, so he did the only thing he could think of.

He snuck into Mike’s room late at night and cried on the other man’s shoulder.

Mike was nothing but helpful, soothing him with “Peter, baby, it’s okay,” and soft shushing as Peter was wracked with sobs. Mike scooted next to Peter and held him, awkward as it was, until he calmed down, and then addressed his fears one by one and reassured him.

Suddenly, Peter was struck with a thought. _I’m in love with Mike Nesmith._

It wasn’t something he’d thought about anyone before. He loved his mother, and his friends, and when he was seven years old he thought he was in love with a woman who turned out to be a scarecrow, but _this_ was not something he’d ever felt.

The week after, he was more ditzy than usual. Nobody noticed, of course, although he got some weird looks from Mike. He was busy thinking about love.

He watched Davy with 2 different girls within the 7 days, and it didn’t seem like what he felt for Mike. They did a lot of kissing and gazing into each other’s eyes. Peter would have liked to do that with Mike, of course, but he also wanted to talk to Mike about anything and everything, and it didn’t seem like Davy’s girls were so interested in talking.

And when the women left, Davy moped for a day and then forgot about them. Peter wondered what life would be like if Mike left, and it made him feel so terrible he almost cried. If he ever could get over it, it’d certainly take more than a day.

After that week, Peter realized he hadn’t gotten much done, and turned his attention to Micky.

Micky had a long-term girlfriend, and they met all of Peter’s requirements. They kissed, they had pet names, they talked on the phone for hours— but there was just one problem: they didn’t seem to like each other.

Peter thought that the only thing worse than living without Mike would be a lifetime of chasing him, an endless game of cat-and-mouse. He couldn’t imagine playing coy and ignoring Mike just because he got on Peter’s nerves a little bit, and it seemed that was all Micky and his girlfriend did. They were dating, but they certainly weren’t friends.

Peter only had three good friends, and he’d already examined two of them to no avail, so he turned to Mike. Mike didn’t have a girlfriend, though, so Peter turned to his last resort.

Late at night, just like two weeks before, Peter went into Mike’s room to talk.

“Peter, what’s wrong? It’s not about the soup you made, is it? Because I thought it was wonderful.” Peter knew Mike was lying— he’d learned the hard way that baby powder could not substitute for salt— but he admired that Mike tried.

“No, Mike, I wanted to talk to you.”

“About?”

Peter was silent for a moment, collecting his thoughts. “How do you know you love someone?”

Mike seemed stricken. “Well, Peter babe, it’s pretty cut-and-dry, I think. When you love somebody, they’re like a light to your flower. They’re good to you, and they help you grow, and you want to spend your life with them and grow with them and see life their way.”

Peter was silent. Mike was Peter’s light, and Peter couldn’t imagine a world without him. But how could he tell if it was really love if he’d never felt it before?

“Well, Mike, I think I know, but how can I be sure?”

Mike chuckled. “Well, you start with a kiss, and you work from there.”

A beat’s hesitation, and Peter surged in to kiss Mike. Mike tensed up for a second, and then softened, welcoming the kiss. He’d been ready for bed and he tasted like toothpaste and he was _perfect._

After three seconds or a million years or anything in between, Peter pulled away.

Mike brought a hand to his mouth, gingerly touching his lips. “Sweet baby Jesus, Peter.”

“Mike?”

“Yes?”

“You’re not angry, are you?”

“Heavens no, Peter. I’m absolutely thrilled.”

“I think I love you.”

“I love you too, Peter baby. I’m glad you finally see it.”

**Author's Note:**

> relatable character x hot character at its finest!
> 
> peter seems autistic-coded, and i didn’t even notice until i was halfway done writing. i didn’t tag it “autistic character” bc i’m not autistic myself, but that was my line of thinking looking into Peter’s mind. (also, obviously, these are the characters, not the musicians : ))


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